


Nicknames and Murder

by shanachie



Category: NCIS
Genre: AAALLL the nicknames, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanachie/pseuds/shanachie
Summary: Nick really wants to find the perfect nickname for Ellie, but she's not so keen on his choices.





	Nicknames and Murder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [k3nj1ph1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/k3nj1ph1/gifts).



> This was supposed to be just... Nick trying out nicknames for Ellie... but it kinda... morphed. Plus I needed my story for the month. And the name at the end comes for episode 1511. It seemed to fit. The little byplay from the beginning comes from other episode from season 16, but I can't remember which one.
> 
> Thanks as always to its_not_my_fault.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** No one recognizable belongs to me. Not making any money off this.  
>  **Second Disclaimer** Despite being fanfiction, this is MY work and I do not give anyone or any other site permission to republish this story under my name or any other without my authorization.

“You don’t like ‘babe’?” Torres asked as they made their way to the car.

Bishop shoved the man ahead of her, glaring at her partner around him. “No.”

“Babe is kinda demeaning,” the man commented.

Bishop gave him an extra shove, knocking him into the roof of the car as she tried to shove him inside. “Ooops,” she said, as she re-adjusted her grip on the man and guided him into the car. “Watch your head.”

Torres shook his head, hiding a smirk as he walked around the car, digging the keys out of his pocket. “Sweetie?” he suggested.

“No,” she told him.

“You need a name that embodies all that she is,” the suspect commented from the back seat.

“No one asked you,” Bishop told him.

Torres filed away her no with the other names and started towards the Navy Yard.

 

  
“Snookums,” he offered from his desk later that evening while they were wrapping up the paperwork from the case.

“Don’t even _think_ that name,” Bishop replied.

“Aw, you don’t want to be my little snookums?” he asked.

Bishop glared at him. “I’m not any smaller than you.”

 

  
“Good morning,” Torres greeted Bishop as if he hadn’t seen her just an hour earlier as he joined her in the elevator. He nodded at the other NCIS agent in the elevator. Bishop eyed him, but nodded in reply. When the other agent stepped off the elevator, Torres offered the next name, “Sweetheart.”

“Do I seem like a sweetheart to you?” Bishop asked in response.

“No,” he admitted, “you seem like a mal culo pequeña mama.”

Bishop grinned in response, ducking her head as her cheeks pinked up. “Keep trying,” she informed him.

“What is he trying?” McGee asked, having caught the tail end of the conversation.

They were caught for a minute, both of them attempting to figure out what they should suggest. “Guessing my favorite food,” Bishop answered as Torres said, “Trying to figure out her middle name.”

McGee shook his head and pointed out, “You know you can look up her middle name in her personnel file.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Torres wanted to know.

“If you three are done,” Gibbs interrupted them. “We’ve got a dead Marine.”

 

 

“Bicho,” was Torres’s next suggestion as they packed things up at the crime scene.

“I am not a bug nor am I little or cute,” Bishop replied. “Switching to Spanish isn’t going to change my opinion.”

“I don’t see why you object to that one,” Torres protested.

Bishop glared at him. “I’m not something you squash,” she said as McGee joined them. “And I don’t think you need to continue with suggestions right now.”

“Why not just cook her dinner?” McGee asked as Bishop went to grab the case they’d left on the ground.

Torres looked confused for a minute before answering, “I want to make sure I cook her the _perfect_ meal.”

“Delilah just likes it when I cook,” McGee commented, “and it’s not like Bishop is a picky eater.”

Torres shrugged. “I want it to be right.”

Gibbs walked by. “If you two are finished jawing, Bishop could use some help.”

“I got it,” Torres said, hurrying over to help Bishop with the last of the cases. She gave him a grateful look as she handed one over. “I think McGee suspects something,” he said in an undertone.

“Or you’re being overly suspicious,” she replied.

“I’m _not_ ,” he protested, even as she moved around to get in the truck. Gibbs walked by at that moment, shaking his head.

 

  
Later, the team studied the plasma with the information they had gathered. “We need more on Jed Anderson,” Gibbs commented. “Which means someone on the inside.”

The three agents exchanged glances. “Uh, Gibbs?” McGee asked.

“Not you,” Gibbs told him. “You couldn’t pass for a Marine if the rest were blind. Torres.”

“Gibbs?” Torres’s surprise was clear.

“And Bishop.”

The second agent in question almost fell off the desk she was seated on. “I can’t pass for a Marine,” she protested.

“You can pass for the wife of a Marine,” Gibbs commented. While she was trying to process that comment, Gibbs was already moving away, leaving the three agents standing there. “Case won’t get solved with you standing there.”

 

  
“At least this gives me an excuse to call you sweetheart,” Torres commented as he set the last box down next to where Bishop was standing.

Bishop rolled her eyes, even as she studied the box. “First of all, not on your life. Second of all, they’re taking this newlywed cover entirely too far.”

“What do you mean?” Torres asked as he turned to dig through another box.

She looked around, indicating the sea of boxes that surrounded them. “Look at all this!” Shoving a couple of them aside, she made her way over to the couch and dropped down onto it. “When did they have time to get all this together? Gibbs just made the decision to send us under like three hours ago.”

“Hate to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure most of the boxes are empty.” Torres hefted one of the boxes one handed in demonstration.

“Well, that’s not at all helpful,” Bishop said as someone knocked on the door. “Understandable, but not helpful,” she added as she weaved her way through the boxes towards the door.

Torres didn’t have a chance to respond before she opened the door, pasting a smile on her face at the same time. A woman stood on the other side of the door. “Hi,” she greeted Bishop, holding up a cake plate. “Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Alyson.”

“Um, hi,” Bishop replied, even as she fumbled to take the plate. “I’m Ellie. This is my husband, Nick.” She indicated Torres, who’d come up behind her and slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Ooo, cake,” Torres said with a grin. “Here, cariño, I’ll take that to the kitchen. Why don’t you invite Alyson in?” he offered, taking the plate from her.

Bishop made a face, even as she stepped back from the door. “But the house is a mess,” she protested. “I’m lucky we can even find the couch.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Alyson assured her. She craned her neck towards the kitchen. “Oh my gosh, what did he call you? That was adorable.”

Bishop sighed. “Nick has been trying since we got married to give me a nickname that he deems suitably loving. And that I’ll tolerate.” She finished as Nick came back into the room. “But he hasn’t succeeded yet.”

“But it’s fun to try, cupcake.”

“Absolutely not,” Bishop informed him.

Alyson giggled. “You two are adorable. I’m so happy that you were assigned here. Even if it is a TDY.”

“We’re pretty happy to be here, too,” Torres replied.

Alyson looked around. “Wow. The movers just dropped everything. Do you need help unpacking? Or arranging or anything?”

Bishop shook her head. “No. I appreciate the offer, but it’ll give me something to do while Nick is away during the day. Since we’re only going to be here for a few months, I’m not going to look for a job.”

“Well, let me know,” Alyson said. “I’m just two doors down.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Bishop said as she escorted the woman to the door.

“Nothing like having your prime suspect walk right through the door,” Torres commented after Bishop had closed it behind the woman.

“That definitely has to be a first.” Bishop pushed away from the door. “Now what?”

“Now you get to play happy housewife and I go to ‘work’,” Torres responded. “Just in case she’s not our murderer, I need to go check out some of the Marines.”

“Be careful,” Bishop couldn’t prevent herself from saying. She also gave into her wishes and kissed Torres, allowing him to draw her into a deeper kiss than she intended.

“Hey,” Torres replied with a charming grin. “It’s me, baby.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Also no.”

 

  
They quickly settled into a routine for their days jogging together in the mornings (with Torres complaining Bishop was slowing him down) before Torres went off to work. In the evenings, Bishop would be waiting, sometimes at the door with a kiss, sometimes back in the house with information. Torres chaffed under the restrictions of being confined to the life of Nick Perez, but he had to admit having to spend all the time with Bishop wasn’t a hardship. During the day, Bishop pretended to unpack boxes, putting the empties out to be taken away.

She was just carrying a load out when Alyson came by. “You seem to be making good progress,” the other woman commented.

“I have motivation,” Bishop replied, “I hate living out of boxes.”

Alyson chuckled. “I can understand that.” Moving forward, she helped Bishop carry the last couple of boxes to the curb. “So can I ask you a question?”

The NCIS agent froze for a moment, then forced a smile, answering, “Sure. What’s the question?”

“How did you end up coming with Nick? I didn’t think wives normally came with Marines on a TDY.”

“They don’t, but Nick might end up being transferred her permanently so they went ahead and moved us both.”

“The Corps must really like your husband. Not everyone is that lucky,” Alyson commented. She glanced down the street to her. “Some of us have to remain when our husbands get TDY’d.”

Bishop answered carefully, “It’s not usual for me to be sent along on a TDY, but like I said the Corps thinks this is going to become permanent.”

Alyson frowned, but didn’t respond.

“Did you come over for a reason?” Bishop asked when the other woman was silent for a few minutes and it began to get awkward.

“Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a wives gathering the day after tomorrow. I wanted to invite you.”

“Um, well,” Bishop stuttered. “Yeah. Okay.” If nothing else it was a chance to observe Alyson more closely. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at three?” Alyson suggested.

“Yeah. All right,” Bishop agreed.

 

 

When Torres came home that evening, he found Bishop at the kitchen table, pouring over the files. “Hi, querido, how was your day?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Don’t patronize me,” she returned, not looking up from her files.

“What are you looking for?”

“Alyson said something to me today that made me think.”

Torres took a seat next to her, reaching for a file. “What are you looking for?”

“She was talking about not getting to go with her husband when he was TDY’d and about me coming with mine. Made me wonder who’d be recalled when Anderson was killed.”

Torres reached for one of the files, asking, “What did you discover?”

“Neal Jackson, Alyson’s husband, was one of four men who could have been recalled, but… since Anderson was murdered, they held off on recalling anyone.”

He leaned back in the chair. “And then we showed up.”

Bishop nodded. “She must have been so angry. Not only did her husband not come home, but a happy couple moved into what she saw as _her_ happiness.”

“So what are you saying?”

“That we just found a motive for Alyson to kill Anderson… And you.”

 

 

Things moved quickly after that. Now that they knew who they were looking at, it was a matter of gathering the evidence. With all of their focus on one person, it was easy to follow the string of messages and phone calls that landed Anderson in the position to be murdered.

Bishop took great pleasure in decking Alyson in the face two days later when she went after Torres with a knife. Torres crowed as the woman crumpled at their feet. “That’s my girl!” he yelled.

The blonde agent glared at him as she flipped the still struggling woman over and started cuffing her. “Not. Helping,” she grumbled.

“Aw, don’t be that way, Charlie,” Torres teased. Her moves reminded him of the time they’d gone undercover as the pimp and his girlfriend hooker.

Her head jerked up at the name and their eyes locked. “Yes,” she told him before hauling Alyson to her feet. “That one.”

“Really?” he asked, following them as Bishop pushed the woman towards the house where they could call for reinforcements. “Your old cover name?”

She looked over her shoulder at him as she shoved Alyson down so the woman was seated on the porch. “Yeah. Really.”

Torres grinned widely as Bishop got her cell phone out to call Gibbs. “She picked a nickname,” he informed Alyson happily.

“I’m so thrilled for you,” Alyson said dryly.

Nothing could dim Torres’s happiness though and he simply ignored their prep, watching Bishop as she continued her conversation. When she hung up, he asked, “What are we supposed to do?”

“Gibbs’ll be here as soon as he can. Until then, we sit tight.”

“We can start packing up the files,” Torres recommended.

They took turns watching Alyson and packing up the house, waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Alyson was silent as they worked, clearly not wanting to give them any more ammunition against her. Torres didn’t care, he was happy enough that the case was over and Bishop had finally picked a nickname.

 

 

 

  
mal culo pequeña mama—bad ass little mama  
bicho—bug (little, cute)  
cariño—honey or love  
TDY—temporary duty  
Querido—darling, dear, lover


End file.
